Coming Home
by arianna99
Summary: Episode related short fics. Most recent: Spoilers for Children of Earth, Day One. Ianto on love, categorization, Torchwood and Jack Bloody Harkness
1. Coming Home post DW 4x13

Not Mine, Yadda Yadda Yadda

Coming Home

None of it was about Jack, at all. It was about the Doctor, about Rose, and about Donna. He, Martha, Mickey, and so many others were just participants in a mildly helpful way, but the denouement was those three all the way. The Doctor's mind, Donna's human spirit, and Rose's heart were the key to everything, which was exactly as it should be, and as it would always be. All the others were brave and loyal soldiers fighting the battle in their name.

Jack had always been a soldier. The Time Agency was a place of battles and mercenaries, and he'd grown up in a war zone. That was the way he did it. The long, agonizing, two mile climb through the air vents thinking of a plan, running on adrenaline and necessity, and you'd think he'd no longer feel the fear if he knew he couldn't die, but his palms were sweaty and his heart beat too fast and he knew he was scared for everyone he loved, but pushed it to the corners of his consciousness. You couldn't let yourself be distracted by things like that during a battle.

Mickey, Mickey the Idiot, Mickey Mouse, stood waiting at the other end, and he'd never been so glad to see him. He'd grown, over the years, into a solid warrior, another soldier, a kindred spirit. The unwelcome worries were banished during the fighting and the raging and the daleks and Donna and the Doctors and Rose and then, abruptly, they were all in the Tardis and the Doctor was calling Torchwood.

Jack's heart leapt all the way into his throat. They'd been there, a constant pressure at the back of his mind that he hadn't let himself think about lest something had happened and he drowned in guilt. But there they were, Gwen's familiar voice and gap-toothed grin, and he hardly heard the blasé comments by the Doctor and Rose about her, and then…then Ianto came into the picture, another soldier, with 'Sir' and everything and Jack could feel himself sag in relief. He hadn't even known he'd been that scared.

By the time they landed, he was jittery and anxious to get to Cardiff. The Doctor disabled the teleport, which was all kinds of unfair because now he had to actually use public transportation to get home, and then Martha was talking to him, and he was making her a job offer, and Mickey, too, and he realized he'd come home with the vacancies filled, never the people, but the jobs, and from then on it was just agonizing. Two hours by train, and he thought he'd go mad, Mickey asking all sorts of questions about Torchwood and the Rift. Martha could cover plenty, but there were those situations that required technobabble.

He practically sprinted out of the train, coat billowing out behind him, till he was at the plass. Martha and Mickey ran behind him, Mickey huffing a bit, but Martha shut him up. She knew, he figured. She'd known since the unit cap fiasco.

They went down the lift. It just wouldn't go fast enough for Jack, though Mickey adored it. And then they were grinding to a halt and Jack was running towards his team, his faithful, wonderful team, accepting Gwen's hug and kissing her forehead.

Ianto. Hanging back, unsure of himself in any public situation. And Jack was walking up to him before he quite knew it himself, and taking his face in both hands before kissing him as deeply as he could, eerily reminding him of when he'd woken up after Abaddon, only not, because this meant so much more.

Gwen cleared her throat loudly, by now almost used to them. Martha looked like she had a tear or two in her eyes. Mickey raised an eyebrow. "Never took you for the settling down type, Jack."

Ianto blushed a gorgeous shade of red.

"Right, guys, this is Mickey Smith, former Companion of the Doctor."

Mickey snorted. "More like Companion's Companion."

Jack grinned a bit. "Mickey, this is Gwen Cooper and this is Ianto Jones. Mickey and Martha'll be joining the team."

If Gwen and Ianto thought it strange, they said nothing. "Are you any good with tech?" Ianto asked. "Our last tech expert died recently."

"Oh, way to make the job appealing," Mickey answered good-naturedly, and they were off at the computers, doing nerd things.

"I never said I'd join," Martha said half-heartedly. "Anyway, I've still got to shut down that program."

"Torchwood can do it on higher authority," Jack said with an expansive hand gesture. "Come on. You know you want to." He added a lewd eyebrow movement.

"No flirting with engaged candidates for the job, Jack. You'll scare her off," Gwen said laughingly, and Jack knew he was home and all was well.


	2. Perchance to Dream post The Dead Line

**Title: **Perchance to Dream**  
Fandom/Pairing: **Torchwood, Jack/Ianto  
**Rating: **R  
**Disclaimer: **RTD BBC ETC

**Summary:** Post The Dead Line. Episode fic, basically. Jack and Ianto clear a bit of air, but most of it can stay settled.

Gwen comes back into St. Helens after finding the nice doctor a car. She just wants to tell the boys she's going home to Rhys (and maybe just check once more that Jack really is alright, because of all the things she's ever been afraid of, losing him was never one before today).

Jack is fine, though, or at least she's reasonably certain he is, given that his tongue is down Ianto's throat and his legs are wrapped around Ianto's, ankles hooked somewhere in the vicinity of Ianto's calves, pulling him so close Ianto's thighs must be painfully pressed into the medical examination table, but maybe Ianto doesn't really care about that.

Gwen's never seen Ianto look quite as lost as he did today, except for maybe the time just after Lisa died, and when Jack was dead for three days, and maybe the first week after Jack left, and, she thinks, in some half-remembered nightmares of hers, in the Himalayas in a tent and a whizzing metal ball coming closer, the boardroom in a strange light and Ianto saying something about meaning and Jack under the shadow of an unfamiliar man with blonde hair…but those last two never happened. She thinks.

Alright, the point is, she's seen Ianto lost. But never so lost he didn't do his job. This time, though…he just shut down and stayed where he was, keeping vigil at Jack's bedside with a faint tremor in his voice that kept her from asking him about it, or even touching him, because she was afraid he'd break.

It's not like it's an issue for her. She did the same thing, back when Jack was stone-cold and dead for three days. If he hadn't done it, she would have. Jack has clawed himself awake from too many bad things alone for them to not obsessively need to be with him.

In a way, it's easier without Tosh and Owen. They might never have understood what it is that holds them captivated by Jack's bedside. In a way, Gwen thinks, she may not one day either. She can feel Torchwood hardening out some of her squishy, sensitive parts, and Jack's not the hero he used to be to her. He has other sides. And she knows she has a duty to save the world.

But Ianto…oh, bless, she thinks, Ianto's head over heels in love with Jack. He probably sat by Jack's bedside and talked to him. Isn't that what you do with coma patients, talk? She can't picture Ianto just…talking, it doesn't seem quite his style, but there's a lot she doesn't know about Ianto.

Gwen realizes she's still standing motionless in the doorway as they kiss, and tiptoes away silently.

She doesn't hear Ianto huff out a relieved, nervous, high sort of laugh against Jack's lips and say, "I thought you promised not to mention anything I said."

Jack kisses him sweetly. "I think you'll find it's only a deal if both parties actually agree."

A nurse bustles in and interrupts their reunion, tells them to clear the room for other patients.

Jack stands, suddenly the same height as Ianto again, and now Ianto feels strange, because he's used to people with their legs hooked around his while they snog being smaller than him, but with Jack it's quite the reverse.

"Come on, baby," Jack says with an uncivilized eyebrow wiggle. "Let's go watch the Texas Chainsaw Massacre."

"Over my dead body," Ianto answers, helping Jack into his coat.

"Don't even joke," Jack says, dead serious and quiet.

It's much later, when they're both naked, in bed, and Ianto has Jack on his back, is sucking and nipping to his heart's content, because he doesn't think he'll ever get over his addiction to Jack (maybe there's a twelve-step programme. God knows Jack has enough exes…), with Jack moaning out quietly and begging for Ianto to fuck him that Ianto asks.

He props his chin up on Jack's hipbone as he prepares him, but he knows he can't go through with it without asking first, even if it ruins the moment.

"Jack," he says, needy and vulnerable in a way he doesn't like, "When will you leave?"

Jack stares at him for a moment, clarity piercing through the fog of lust, Jack's eyes a strange mixture of dilated pupil and clear, sharp blue.

He draws Ianto up and kisses him thoroughly. "Ianto," he says, and he's so quiet tonight. Ianto likes it, because Jack's never quiet, except with him. It makes him feel special. "Ianto," he kisses Ianto deeply, hands running through Ianto's hair. "I don't know when I'll leave, if I'll leave, why I'll leave," he says, legs hooking around Ianto's waist, rocking their hips together almost unintentionally. "But I do know that I'm coming back for you every time. And that's a promise. I don't care how old you get, I don't care what else is out there, I'm keeping you as long as I can."

Ianto enters Jack in one smooth, sweet thrust, with Jack sucking love-bites all over his collarbone and neck, wherever he can reach as they rock together to inevitable, burning bliss.

And if afterwards, as they drift off to sleep, sweaty and sticky and, frankly, disgusting, one or the other of them (or possibly even both, it's hard to tell) whispers three words they've both, separately, promised themselves they'll never say, well, it could just as well have been a dream.

A nice dream, though.


	3. Kick at the Darkness CoE Day One

**Title: **Kick at the Darkness (Till it Bleeds Daylight)  
**Fandom/Pairing: **Torchwood, Jack/Ianto  
**Disclaimer: **BBC RTD ETC  
**Rating: **Light R, for language

**Summary: **Ianto on love, categorization, Torchwood and Jack Bloody Harkness

**Warning: **SPOILERS! Both for "The Dead Line" AND for Children of Earth: Day One. You have been warned.  
**Other: **Title is from the song "Lovers in a Dangerous Time"

_You'll never just be a blip in time, Ianto Jones. __Not for me._

Well. Sod that.

No, seriously. That little line there might as well just fuck itself to fucking hell, as much good as it's doing. It's typical Jack, a reassurance that reassures whom? Oh, yeah. No bloody fucking one. Except maybe Jack.

Because Jack is as aggravating as he is full of himself, and the two collide more often than not. And it's all well and good to say he's not a blip, but…

But then, what is he?

Yes. Being convinced he was insignificant was painful, but at least he had thought he knew. Now, though, well, now he hasn't got the foggiest notion of what in the name of all things caffeinated he and Jack are.

And if there is one thing Ianto Jones hates, it's not knowing things.

'Blip in time' had them stationed somewhere above 'fuckbuddies' and somewhere under 'life partners', and while they're still neither, there's a hell of a lot of wiggling room in between those two, and, knowing Jack, there's probably an entirely different category he thinks applies hidden somewhere fifty miles away from the paths Ianto's thought processes can trod, or, even better, no category at all. Ianto is an archivist. These things don't sit well with him.

But Jack is Jack, as soon as he admits a vulnerability (like, say emotional attachment beyond the 'blip-in-time' range) he shuts down every other opening and hisses like a big cat when you prod the issue. So Ianto tries a different tack.

He watches the people watching them. With most people who get the chance to observe them, it's lost in _Oh-my-god-aliens-exist?!_ And then retconned away promptly, but Gwen, she sometimes gives them this look, like she wants to pinch Ianto's cheek and buy them a set of matching towels.

Rhys has a more calculating air, because he's still not sure how much of a threat Jack is, and he and Ianto haven't gotten much chance to get to know each other, but Ianto's pretty certain there's less of a cold front these days because he keeps Jack away from Gwen.

Survey says: couple. By name, if not nature.

So Ianto gives it a whirl. He mentions it to Jack, faux-casual in an entirely too painful way. Ianto's good at lying to strangers, but he feels like Jack can see every part of him, his eyes, his mind, the inside of his skin, even, the ugly bits, and he's desperately, terribly bad at lying to Jack. Once upon a time he was good at it, but that ended when Lisa died and he fell in love with the bastard.

Jack, being Jack, doesn't get it.

Ianto sometimes wished he had James Bond's attitude. Or his age. Or his voice. Or his looks. Anything, really, so that, "He thought we were a couple," would come out deep and casual, yet calculating, and not nervous and fake.

Jack doesn't need to be James Bond, he's cool enough on his own to breeze right past the comment (and the next time Ianto mentions it) with his inherent coolness.

Life isn't fair.

This is why talking to Rhiannon is a nightmare come true.

She's his favourite sister ever (that is, if he'd had others, he'd have liked her best), but she, unlike him, lives in the real world with real people. Jack is not a real person, officially, or if he is, his records will say he's too old to possibly exist, and his ego is big enough to eat up most of the real world like a giant Pacman.

Rhiannon's like him, in some ways. Not in the way where she has tits and kids and a decent job and he doesn't, but in the way that she likes knowing things. But he can't give her anything to know about Jack, except that he's handsome (on that note, please, God, if you exist, make sure Jack never ever finds out about that. Pacman. World. Chomp.), because does he know jack shit about what he and Jack are? Why, no, he doesn't.

This is why he needs to know if he and Jack are a couple.

This is why he needs to have their relationship, if indeed it is more than a 'blip in time' deal, cemented in fact, with a pretty description and something that will make other people and, more importantly, Ianto himself, stop asking.

If the goddamn hub is going to blow up, starting in Jack's stomach, and he crawls home covered in blood and soot, he wants to be able to tell his nice elderly neighbour, "My boyfriend/lover/partner/what-the-fuck had a bomb in his stomach and the whole building exploded around him", rather than "there was a bit of a mishap at work" (He wouldn't, of course. He just wants to be able to).

He wants to know who he's listening to when he listens to Jack singing the Andrews Sisters and bad 70s pop, who it is who martyrs the Welsh 'r' when he calls Ianto "Cariad" in bed, and he wants to know who Jack sees in him when they wake up in the morning.

Is that so much to ask?

Alright.

Facing the facts, it probably is. Jack's not a duck. He doesn't mate for life. He's not a 21st century human either. He doesn't understand what Ianto's on about.

But still.

When Rhiannon asks whether Jack is nice, he says nothing.

Revenge is sweet.

Or something.


End file.
